Impossible Things Happen
by Serinity46
Summary: D/D fluff. After a certain JE fix-it, the Doctor and Donna are back together and have gotten a bit distracted from getting her things back to the TARDIS.


**A/n: It's just kinda eh... apparently, I've been told it's 'good if it's my first'. Well, I haven't really written fic regularily for a while, but I have been *writing* (fic and non-fic) for years, so I don't know really what to think of that comment. Ah well, I'm bored as all hell, so I though, hey, why not post it? Not really spoilery (except, obviously, for JE, but that was ages ago...), just speculation. Just something I wrote in the sun sometime last week when I was inspired.**

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"So, what've you been up to?" Donna lay facing the Doctor, his arm wrapped closely around her. It had been a little while for her, over six months, and she had no idea how much time had passed for him. "Since me? Not just moping around in the TARDIS, I hope?"

She looked at him as he hesitated, his hand tracing abstract patterns on her back through the purple fabric of her top. Had he?

"No, no, of course not," the Doctor answered, shaking his head slightly. "Well… maybe a bit. At first," he admitted, sheepishly. "But I've been alright. Well, doing stuff, anyways. Popping around to other planets, saving a few lives… I stopped a Cyberking from crushing London, for one."

"Really? When was that?" She asked, surprised. She really wasn't _that_ good at missing alien invasions, was she?

"1851. Nothing you missed," the Doctor smiled, catching the look on her face. He wished she could've seen it, though, Christmas in 1851, Jackson and Rosita… he bet Donna would've gotten on great with them. "None of it's as fun without you, though…" he trailed off. His other hand brushed a strand of soft ginger hair away from her eyes and lingered there, cupping her face.

"Yeah," Donna nodded. "Well, I've been having a great time stuck here doing _nothing_."

"Really? You've been doing nothing? You, Donna Noble, the most brilliant, incredible woman in the universe…" the thought of that hurt him.

"Well, not _nothing_," she assured. Her hand came ontop of his. "I did go to Rome, for a week last September. And," she began, with a grin, "You know, read that book, got my memories of us back, and survived the metacrisis. That too."

"You're amazing," the Doctor told at Donna, grinning. She really, truly was.

"There is one thing I'm wondering, though," Donna looked at the Doctor, curiously, for a moment. She rolled over on her bed, her and the Doctor laying there amid piles of clothing and her other belongings. They'd been packing to bring it all back to the TARDIS, but had somehow they'd gotten a bit distracted. Reaching over, her hand grasped the shiny, hardcover book. _A Journal of Impossible Things_. That had been how it had happened; just a bestseller that Donna had one day noticed being promoted in a shop and felt drawn to read… and then she'd remembered. Gradually, as she read, each time more and more things coming back to mind, not all at once. That was probably, they'd both assumed, what had kept the metacrisis from being fatal. That, or just amazing luck.

"How come one the chapters in here," Donna placed the book between them, and flipped open to a page around three quarters of the way through. A copy of an inky sketch of what she recognized as the Racnoss adorned part of the first page of that chapter, followed by the title, which she pointed to, beginning to laugh, "Is called: 'the crazy ginger bride that I fell in love with'? Seriously, did you actually write that? Or is that just what that Verity woman called it when she turned that journal her gran gave her into a book?"

The Doctor gave a laugh, looking again to the page that Donna had pointed out. There was something just a bit familiar in those words, and he answered Donna simply by kissing her.

"Love you, too," Donna smiled, after they broke off. One of her hands wove into the Doctor's hair, running his ruffled hair through her fingers, while the other came around his back.

"We should really get back to getting all of this back to the TARDIS," the Doctor muttered, glancing over at the piles of half-packed luggage that was strewn across Donna's room. Somehow, though, he couldn't stop from running his hands across her body, exploring her curves and winding into her luscious hair as their lips met again, their tongues eagerly intertwining. "The universe awaits…?"

"Oh, the universe can wait a few more minutes," Donna replied, pulling him back in. The Doctor and Donna, back together, snogging like mad, and soon heading back to the TARDIS… everything was right with the universe, again.


End file.
